Details
by mistress77
Summary: Veronica was a stickler for details. That’s what made her who she was. And sometimes, she really hated herself for it. A different take on the aftermath of the season finale. LoVe theme. Whether or not this ends up a oneshot is up to you, so review!


Veronica was a stickler for details. That's what made her who she was. It's what made her so valuable to her father's private investigation business. And it's what always seemed to get her the last laugh in the end.

And now, as she stood baking in her kitchen, her notice of details played an important part in the making of her infamous snicker doodles -- the Neptune Pirates' snack of choice. One-teaspoon vanilla extract…two teaspoons cinnamon…She knew the recipe by heart, and could pretty much eyeball the measuring of each ingredient. She never did, though. She was a stickler for details, remember? And when it came to baking for the Neptune High basketball team, she wanted every bite, every taste of the stupid little spirit-cookie-box-thingys to be perfect. After all, the team was bound to find out one day that _the_ Veronica Mars -- the same girl they teased and hounded and made miserable (or, at the very least, attempted to make miserable)-- was their very own Betty Crocker. And when they did, complete with jaw dropping jaws and bulging eyes, she wanted to able to throw back that they not only ate her baking, but they loved every morsel of it. So she measured and timed and made sure everything was perfect. She paid attention to all the details, and when all was said and done (or really baked and done), a sense of satisfaction crept over her.

But there was still a sense of…uneasiness? Discontent?

A sense of emptiness, she realized, inside of her.

Yes, details could be good, but they could also gnawed away at the more important aspects of her life. It was the incurable need to know _everything_ that often got her into trouble. She poked and prodded in an effort to gain the knowledge she craved.

It was a two-for-one deal, you see. Yes, she was meticulous with details, picking up on the most discrete things that Average Joe wouldn't even notice and mixing and matching them with the million-and-one other thoughts dancing around her head until she could solve whatever puzzle was in need of solving. And she baked like no one else grandma could. That's when details were great.

But then there were the times when she needed to know more, and more, and more. Her need to know the ins-and-outs of a situation, the facts of a case, often resulted in a whole lot of pushing. And people did not appreciate being pushed. She stepped on people's toes. In fact, she pretty much stomped on them. But it was all for the own good, right? Everyone deserved to know the truth. And plus, wasn't there that inspirational little saying that the truth shall set you free?

Logan would have loved that; yet another quote to add to his collection of Answering Machine Inspirationals.

Veronica stopped.

What if that quote never made his list? What if no new quotes ever crossed paths with his answering machine? Logan had been missing for hours. She known Logan for years, and Angry Logan was never good news. Angry Logan was very good friends with Drunk Logan, and when the two of them got together, the results were often, if not always, disastrous. What if he was…

God she hated that thought. She'd rather think of him off somewhere, smirking at the thought of everyone scrambling around to find him. Did he know about his father and Lily?

Probably not, Veronica thought. And not because she thought that Logan was ignorant or stupid, but because he was gone, floating away with the currant, his brown hair dirtied with sand and foam.

She didn't want to think of him that way, but betrayal at the hand of her mother had taught her to be realistic. Logan was gone. Plain and simple. After all, if he were alive, wouldn't she feel him? Sense him? She should, right? There was no way that they could have shared that kind of passion without creating some sort of connection. Perhaps that was the source of the emptiness that had begun to consume her. Logan was gone, and her body and heart and soul were telling her that. That sense of emptiness was her confirmation.

She had come home from the hospital exhausted. Her father was fine, thank God, but his dark bruises and deep cuts warranted a closer inspection, according to Dr. Feel-good. So as her father settled into what would be his home-sweet-home for the next week or so, Veronica headed home for some much-needed rest.

Yes, she could have stayed with Wallace if she wanted to. She probably could have even stayed with Duncan if she wanted to. But she didn't want to. She didn't want to talk. She didn't want to listen. She didn't want to watch Dave Chapelle and laugh and joke and pretend that everything was going to be normal. Because it wasn't. And why bother cluttering the air with lies when clearing it of deception had already cost her so much?

The truth was supposed to set her free. The truth of her rape. The truth of Lily's murder. But everything seemed that much messier. She felt more claustrophobic than she ever had before.

So no, she didn't want to pretend everything was fantastic. She wanted to sleep.

At least, that what she had thought. The minute she laid her head on her pillow, and surge of energy came over her. She could have launched into a full front attack of ritual cleaning, but there was something about the aroma of baked goods that seemed more appealing. Maybe it was fact that could remember the last time she had something to eat. Or maybe it was because baking for the 09ers made her feel closer to Logan. She didn't want to dwell on it.

And yet, her memories of him were crystal clear. The feel of his lips on her neck while his hands slipped up the back of her shirt. The strength of his arms, those same arms that would hold her upright when he kiss that spot just below her left ear that would cause her legs to turn to jelly. The heat of his body, that same body that pressed heavily against her and caused her heart to skip so many beats that it couldn't be healthy.

A sudden shiver went down her spine. _Oh God, she missed him. _Veronica braced herself against the kitchen counter, an overwhelming sense of desperation coming over her.

_Damnit Logan, where the hell are you? _

She could feel a breakdown coming on. But Veronica Mars did not break down. No, no, she was strong. She had to be strong. She could not not be strong. She briefly wondered if this was how Logan felt that time in the hotel, after realizing his mother was really gone. That moment when he braced himself beside her and she held him, at a loss for words. She could still feel the weight of him.

And the weight of everything. The attack on her. The attack on her father. The arrest of Aaron Echolls. The knowledge that Logan's SUV had been found, Logan-less, at the very same spot his mother had last been seen.

The exhaustion had returned in full force. Packing away the baked goods and returning the kitchen to its pristine glory, Veronica brought herself back to her bedroom.

And this time, when her head hit the pillow she fell asleep.

And for a small moment in time, there was calm. There was normal. There was Lily.

_Don't forget about me, Veronica._

She woke with a start, Lily still whispering in her ears. For a brief moment, she could have sworn the blond nymph was right beside her, and she smiled at the warmth that was Lily. The last bits of sleep drifted from her head, and although Awake Veronica knew that Lily was long gone, she also realized that she was finally, _finally, _in peace.

Oh, but it was such a nice dream. Lily, as always, was so carefr----

_Knock knock._

Yeah, Veronica got it; it was just a dream. Although, it really didn't seem that long. Looking at the clock, she realized it hadn't been. She had, in truth, only fallen asleep a short while ago.

Which begged the question:

Who the hell was at her door at 3:07 in the morning?

Mustering whatever strength her power-nap had permitted her, Veronica pulled herself from her bed, drowsily making her way to the front of the apartment.

Her heart speed up a little as her hand made contact with the doorknob. Who was behind door number two? It was another detail t place in her mind. Pulling the door open, Veronica felt her muscles relax, bits of tension flowing outward. Her eyes soften. It had been a long night and a long morning. But every dark cloud had a silver lining. At the thought of yet another cheesy, Logan-esque inspirational quote, a lazy smile crossed her face.

"I was hoping it would be you."


End file.
